


Felix, the Punk

by bumblebeug (Madsmadsmads)



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: AU, F/M, Gen, Lighthearted, Other, Punk!Felix, Strong Marinette Dupain-Cheng, fanon!felix, felinette - Freeform, felix moves from england to marinettes school, felix the punk, ivan and felix are friends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:20:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24146524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madsmadsmads/pseuds/bumblebeug
Summary: Ivan Bruel describes the most punk rock person he knows, Felix. Marinette takes an interest. Felix joins the class.
Relationships: Ivan Bruel & Felix, Ivan Bruel & Luka Couffaine, Ivan Bruel & Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Juleka Couffaine/Rose Lavillant, Marinette/Felix, Rose/Juleka, felinette
Comments: 12
Kudos: 118





	1. Rainstorm

**Author's Note:**

> Like, I know. I have a bunch of other WIPs, but this is a thing that entered my head and my move to the States was very stressful and I loved the idea so I thought I'd share.

The rain drummed steadily on the glass roof, showing no sign of letting up, much to the collective disappointment to the five members of Kitty Section plus their honorary member, Marinette.

“Do you think the tarps will be enough for the equipment?” Rose asked worriedly.

“Yeah,” Luka reassured her, “Those tarps are weighted at the edges – they won’t be going anywhere any time soon. And,” He said, when Rose opened her mouth, “We cut the power to the main deck, so there’s no worry of electrical damage either. This isn’t our first summer storm, right Jules?”

In response, Juleka brushed her long bangs out of her hair and gave the group a small smile. “No,” She said quietly, “Not our first but definitely our most prepared thanks to Marinette.”

When the eyes of the group landed on her, she blushed. “It was just a case of lucky timing.”

“Still,” Luka said, “If you had finished any later, our instruments woulda been in trouble.”

“It was no problem, really.” Marinette waved her hand, wanting the attention to shift away from her heated face.

Luka, perhaps noticing Marinette’s discomfort, glanced at the rain pattering on the glass ceiling and changed the subject. “It looks like we’ll be here a while longer.”

He chipped absently at some stubborn nail polish before glancing up, “Hey, Ivan,” the other boy glanced up some his glass of lemonade, “Who’s the most punk-rock person you’ve ever met?”

Ivan tilted his head up in thought for a few long moments. The group waited patiently, listening to the steady drum of the rain, knowing that Ivan needed time to gather the right words.

“Well,” Ivan drew out slowly, “Do you remember when I went to visit my Auntie in England?”

“Yeah! I remember!” Rose said enthusiastically and began ticking off all that she remembered, “You came back with a new haircut, and a new shirt, and that cool bracelet, and that sneaky piercing that your mot—“

Rose cut herself off when Juleka placed a gentle hand over-top of hers. “Sorry,” Rose squeaked, “We remember; please go on.”

“Right,” Ivan nodded to show that he wasn’t mad at Rose’s interruption, “It was a good time.”

He took a sip of his lemonade before continuing, “Part of what made it so memorable was because I got to hang out with the most punk-rock guy I’d ever met.” He passed his glass from one hand to the other, “Like, real-deal anarchist. Tough as nails. Wasn’t afraid to defy authority and was clever enough to get away with it if he were ever caught. Don’t think anyone’ll ever top him.”

Marinette grinned from her place on the carpet, happily listening to Ivan answer questions about the mystery punk. Apparently, he was also unbeatable at cards – and had to be cheating, but Ivan could never prove it.

Idly, she wondered what he looked like. Obviously, she thought, sketching in her mind, he was muscular. Had to be muscular to impress _Ivan_ with his toughness. He also probably didn’t own a single piece of clothing that wasn’t ripped. Leather or denim jacket though? Whatever it was, it was probably old and second hand and had patches sewn onto it.

“…had this scooter…” Ivan answered.

Leather then, Marinette decided. Leather would protect way more than denim if he fell at speed.

She had just moved down to wondering what sort of boots the punk owned when Rose’s squeal brought her back to reality.

“He sounds so cool,” she said drawing out the last word so that it sounded more like _cuh-oooool_. “What was his name? Was it as punk as him?”

“Yeah,” Ivan grinned, “Don’t know if it was his real name or not, but he introduced himself as Felix.”

 _Huh,_ Marinette thought, _Felix, the punk._


	2. Not completely Wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's as nice a change of pace for me as I'm sure it is to you guys to have an update ready so soon.

“Alright class. Attention, please,” Mme. Bustier clapped. The general chatter of the class settled down and focused on their teacher’s bright smile. “I have a very special announcement! I know it’s unusual for this to happen at the end of the day but we have a new student joining us!”

The student next to her half-heartedly raised one hand in greeting.

“Man,” Alya quietly muttered, “Another year, another kid.”

 **Yeah, you new kids are taking over** , Nino texted to their group chat.

“Pft,” Alya snorted.

**You’re just jealous that we’re cooler than you.**

**As if.** Came Nino’s reply.

**_Flirt on your own time, I’m trying to pay attention._ **

**Sure thing, _mom_.**

Marinette rolled her eyes and lightly kicked Nino’s chair.

“Hey!” Nino retorted.

“Something you wish to add, Nino?” Mme. Bustier asked with an arched brow.

Nino straightened, “No, ma’am.”

“Right, so, as I was saying – our new student is joining us from just across the channel. So please, welcome to the class Felix Lenoir.” Mme. Bustier clapped to signal the rest of the class should follow suit. The new student rolled his eyes at the smattering of applause that resulted.

 _Felix?_ Marinette turned slightly to smile at Ivan, as if to say, ‘ _What're the odds of that?_ ’ only to find him already grinning broadly.

“Ok Felix, there is a place next to Ivan.” Mme. Bustier said apparently satisfied at the reception he received, “He’s in the third –”

“It’s ok,” Felix interrupted. “I already know him,” he added politely and confidently walked over to Ivan.

It was when the two of them quietly bumped forearms that it clicked.

Felix.

From England.

The _most_ punk person Ivan has _ever_ met.

_WHAAAT?!_

Marinette’s jaw dropped. She turned further to see that Juleka’s expression was a mirror to her own. Rose, on the other hand, was frowning confusedly at Juleka.

‘What’s wrong?’ Marinette could see Rose’s mouth form the words.

In response, Juleka shook herself and cupped a hand over Rose’s ear to hide her whisper.

“ _WHAAAT_?!” Rose exclaimed.

As one, the class turned to stare at her outburst. Oblivious, or immune, to the staring - she pointed her finger in Felix’s direction.

“ _You’re_ Felix?” she asked incredulously, eyes darting between Ivan and Felix.

“The one and only,” Felix answered gamely and even though Marinette couldn’t see his face, she was sure he was grinning. 

Mme. Bustier cleared her throat loudly. “Now,” She said louder than necessary. The class went quiet. She continued at a normal volume, “Today we are going to focus on…”

“What on Earth was that about?” Alya asked out of the corner of her mouth to Marinette as she took notes. “You, Juleka, and Rose acted like you’d seen some sort of crazy anomaly.”

“Nothing escapes your keen reporter-senses,” Marinette said teasingly.

Alya tapped her pen smartly on Marinette’s notebook, “Darn right. So you gonna spill or what? Why’s the new kid warrant such shock and awe?”

Marinette shrugged a shoulder, “Like, he doesn’t. Not really. It’s just – the other day, Ivan told us about the most punk person he’d ever met. I guess seeing who he meant was sorta a shock.”

Alya quickly disguised her laughter as a sudden coughing fit when Bustier glanced her way, “No way. That guy? Mr. Sweater-Vest over there is the most punk person Ivan’s ever met? He looks more like a pre-colour television Mr. Rogers.”

“Hence the shock,” Marinette replied with an upturn of her lips.

Apparently satisfied that she’d gotten to the bottom of it, Alya turned back to her notes and left Marinette to her thoughts. Felix was _nothing_ like Marinette pictured. She’d gotten everything wrong – from his height to his outfit. No patches, no rips, and certainly no tears. He was more neatly pressed than even Adrien was during a photoshoot. Where she’d been picturing a colorful explosion of hair, instead it was combed down. The heavy boots she pictured were a fantasy replaced by glossy dress shoes. And she didn’t dare speculate on whether or not his dress shirt hid any muscles underneath it.

 _This_ was the guy that impressed Ivan so thoroughly?

She tamped down on the instinct to dismiss him. After all, Ivan rarely, if ever, exaggerated to impress others. Plus, who was she to judge a book by its cover? She was the hero of Paris and didn’t look it. Of course, she thought wryly, the magic of the miraculous made sure that she couldn’t easily be recognized, so maybe that was a bad example.

Marinette tapped her cheek with her pen as she searched her mind for a good example.

 _Oh!_ She mentally perked. _Rose was a great example!_

Before Kitty Section, everyone thought that hard rock was a genre that Rose would utterly hate. It wasn’t until she founded the band that people realized their assumption was wrong. Actions, not appearances.

 _And_ – the bell rang, startled Marinette from her reverie. She stared down at her blank page and furrowed her brow. Had she really tuned out the whole lesson?

“Alya, I,” she began as they filed out of the classroom, flush creeping up her cheek.

“Don’t worry girl,” Alya held her hand up, “I gotchu. Saw that you went to la-la-land like, 3 minutes into the lecture and started recording when I realized you weren’t leaving it anytime soon.”

Marinette’s phone pinged.

“There,” Alya pocketed her phone, “D'you want me to send you pics of my notes?”

“Alya.” Marinette placed her hands on the other girl’s shoulders and squeezed lightly. “You're my best friend. I owe you.”

Alya laughed and dismissively brushed off Marinette’s hands and compliment. “Yeah, yeah. You do this for everyone else – least I could do. Really. Plus," She leaned in faux-conspiratorily, "between you and me, I figured that Adrien would want some _quality_ notes to read after his photoshoot.” She raised her voice teasingly as Nino passed by, “I saw the state of _someone’s_ notetaking abilities and knew I had to intervene.”

Nino scoffed playfully. “Please, my notes are impeccable. Boy gets A's all the time.”

Alya flicked the rim of his hat. “No thanks to _your_ notes. Aaanyways,” She continued, “I promised my mom I’d help with some catering deliveries, so I gotta jet.”

When Alya closed her locker, she unknowingly gave Marinette a clear view of Felix a few spaces away, draping something over his arm.

A leather jacket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so hype, moving into the new place tomorrow and feeling even a little optimistic about my level of preparedness. Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you all enjoyed!


End file.
